


Do You Stilll Like Me?

by Anonymous



Category: Bates Motel (2013)
Genre: Cuddling, Dancing, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Norma is really Mother here, set post s5x02, unhealthy relationship warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 23:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11000946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "I promised you we would spend time together, didn't I?" he asked, mouth pulling up in a wry smile. "I want to save what I can of this night with my favorite person in the whole world."-Norman and Norma argue after returning home from Norman's failed double date. Then he comforts her as he always does.Fix-it after Norma's "do you still like me?"





	Do You Stilll Like Me?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always nervous about posting in new fandoms so please be kind to me. :)
> 
> I am currently on season 5 of Bates Motel and I had to write something immediately after seeing episode 2. Mother is so adorably insecure, poor baby. And I was talking with someone on tumblr about it and I decided I needed a another scene for them. I had a lot of fun with writing this because technically Norman was the one drinking. And dancing by himself.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The drive home went by in a blur, in a blink. Norman felt the steering wheel under his hands, then turned to his mother in exasperation when she had the audacity to announce she was 'going out' like some rebellious teenager. And then he was in sitting his driveway, looking up dazed at his house and wondering for a moment how he'd gotten there so quickly. He unbuckled his seatbelt. In the back, Mother groaned once, then louder when she didn't get the reaction she was looking for. 'I know every part of you' was a two-way street, a two-handed duet at a piano. 

Norman sighed and whipped around to glare at her. The action made his head spin for some reason. "What, Mother?" he asked. "What do you want? You wanted to go out, you went out. Stop guilt-tripping me."

"I'm not guilt-tripping you," Mother said and blew hair out of her eyes when she sat up fully. She tilted her head. "Why? Are you feeling guilty?" 

Norman turned to face forward again. "Don't be childish, Mother." He got out of the car and shut the door with too much force. 

Mother scrambled out from the car behind him. "I'm being childish? Watch how you treat my car, Mister." 

He continued his way up the stairs, refusing to give her any attention. "Not like you'll be using it anyway." 

"Oh that— that is—"

"Get in the house, Norma."

Her footsteps stopped at the bottom of the stair case. "Don't you boss me around. Or call me Norma. Dead or not, I'm still your mother."

Norman tensed, hands curling inside his coat pockets. He stopped on the first landing to turn wide eyes on his mother. "Keep your voice down," he hissed. "Someone might hear and—"

"Know that I'm not dead?" Mother spread her arms, looking around pointedly before letting them fall again. "I'm Norma Bates!" she shouted before he could do anything. "I'm Norma Bates and I'm not dead! I look after my ungrateful son—"

"Shhh!" 

"—and I'm locked up all day and night." Norman was moving the instant he saw the shine of tears in her eyes, running down the steps two at a time. "And I love my son more than anything in the entire world. And my son, he—" 

Norman tugged at his mother's wrists, fighting to take hold of her hands. "It's okay, Mother."

"He hates me now— he hates me!"

Mother collapsed, face pressed wet against his chest. She shook. She sobbed "you hate me" over and over. 

Norman softened. He brought up a trembling hand to pet her hair. "Shh," he whispered. "I could never hate you." 

Mother looked up to regard him with red eyes. Vulnerable and in need of protecting. "Never?"

He swiped a tear away with his thumb. "Never." And he pressed his fingertips to the soft underside of her chin and bent to kiss her trembling mouth. She tasted of alcohol and vanilla chap stick. It was chaste and sweet, although lingering. It left him aching. So he pulled away. Mother's eyes were on him, the bright blue of them hopeful and full of love. 

Norman pressed his mouth to her forehead. "I do love you, Mother," he said. "Now let's go inside." 

They walked back to the house arm in arm. 

Mother hesitated at the front door and Norman's heart broke for her. So he acted impulsively. He scooped her up in his arms bridal-style and carried her inside to the sound of joyous laughter. Once they were safe in their home, door shut and locked, he set her down on the couch and put on some French song for her. Feeling her eyes on him, Norman removed his jacket and loosened his tie. Mother sat up, eyes curious and open, but smile fading a little in her confusion. "What are you doing, Norman?" 

"I promised you we would spend time together, didn't I?" he asked, mouth pulling up in a wry smile. "I want to save what I can of this night with my favorite person in the whole world." 

She looked radiant, even after crying, and the way she reached out to touch his hand made his blood sing. He bowed low to press a kiss to her knuckles and before he knew it, they were dancing together. 

They indulged in spins and proper footwork before dissolving into nothing more than gentle swaying. They held each other, Norman guiding Mother closer with one hand at the dip of her spine. She leaned her head on his chest and sighed her contentment. 

After a moment, she said, "Norman?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"Why are you chasing after that woman?"

Norman's steps did not falter. He could have told her his 'date' was technically another girl he had no interest in, or remind them both, uselessly, that Madeline was married. Instead he rested his cheek on the softness of his mother's hair. "I like her," he said.

"But I'm here, Norman." His mother sounded tired. And sad. 

Norman closed his eyes. "Oh, Mother. You've always been here for me."

"But after everything I've done for you, you want to leave." 

They'd stopped moving. Norman pulled away to peer down at her. He curled a hand around her arm as she lifted her face toward his. "She reminds me of you, Mother."

To his surprise, she scoffed at his honesty, said, "Of course, Norman," but gave him a beaming, beautiful smile. "But, do you want to be with her or me, kiddo?"

Norman swallowed. It was apparent they both knew the answer. 

Norman bent to press another kiss to her mouth. It lingered, just a press of their mouths together, then another brief kiss from Mother before she pulled away to rub noses with him. "I won't push you, Norman," she said. Lied, maybe, because pushing was in her nature. "But think about this."

She shut the music off and they retired to the couch to cuddle and watch _Swing Time_ on Mother's laptop. With Mother's heartbeat on his chest and their fingers laced tight together at the curve of her hip, Norman thought about it.

**Author's Note:**

> I had them watch _Swing Time_ because even though it's circa 1930s instead of 50s, 'Pick Yourself Up' is very 'Norma' to me.


End file.
